


jump then fall

by ivyrobinson



Category: Anastasia (1997), Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Canon Divergent, F/M, Fluff, Found Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22973995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyrobinson/pseuds/ivyrobinson
Summary: what happens when lily doesn't forgive vlad, anya never gets anywhere near the empress, and how they all go on with life afterwards
Relationships: Dimitri | Dmitry & Anya | Anastasia Romanov (Anastasia 1997 & Broadway)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40





	jump then fall

They had spent two weeks in Paris so far, and they were no closer to the dowager than they had been upon arrival. Lily, still burned by Vlad’s abandonment and theft from her, refused to see him or them or hear them out. The dowager rarely left her apartments, and the security around it was a fortress. They were at a standstill. 

“We need to get jobs,” Anya stated, sensibly, one day while her and Dmitry were on a stroll. While Vlad was out trying to find connections to the dowager or to beg Lily’s forgiveness, her and Dmitry found themselves left alone together more and more. “The diamond money won’t last forever.”

“The dowager could still see you,” he returned, though his tone was flat. He did not hold Vlad’s continuous optimism. 

“It was a silly dream,” she said with a sigh. Maybe even that memory they shared had been a dream, and she had lucked out on guessing that Dmitry had bowed. “We are out of Russia, and that’s what was more important than anything.” 

This much was true. As much as she had wanted to find her family and thought the answer was in Paris, the most important goal was to escape Russia before she and her new regime killed them. 

“What about finding your family?”

Anya leaned against him, “Not all families are blood.” 

He didn’t pull away like he normally did. 

Instead, he let out a breath, looking around them. “We can look for work tomorrow, I’ll talk to Vlad tonight.” 

Paris was starting to feel more permanent than anywhere she had walked in Russia. 

-

Vlad did not take the suggestion that maybe they should begin to look for work and find a more permanent place to live well. He was desperate and sad, and she wondered if it was reuniting Anastasia with her grandmother he truly cared about, or if guilt over him hurting Lily that made him cling to the plan. Or if there was something else going on there. 

“You want to give up,” he had said. It was hard to know if he was speaking to Anya, Dmitry or both of them. “Give up your family? The reward money? All because you two think the lust you feel for each other will last? You’ll be miserable and resentful within a year.”

Dmitry had left after that. 

Anya had stepped forward, putting a gentle hand on Vlad’s arm. “Don’t lash out on us for making a choice you didn’t when you still had Lily.”

Then she, too, walked away. 

-

Anya didn’t see Dmitry again until that night, when she was in her nightgown, brushing her hair. He had knocked on the door, and she had recognized the familiar beat and called out for him to come in. He was dressed down in his regular Russian clothes, instead of the new and fancier ones they had purchased for Paris. 

“I should come back tomorrow,” he said, when he saw she was in her nightgown. Even though he had seen her in the nightgown before, when it was late at night and the nightmares overwhelmed her. 

She put her hair brush down and turned to face him. “Saying it like that will have me anxious all night. Come in, say what you need.”

Dmitry had a ghost of a smirk on his lips on that, “Of course, Your Highness.” He walked over and sat on the corner of her bed, there not being anywhere else in her small room to sit. “Listen, about what Vlad said earlier…” 

Anya put her hand up before he could say anything that he would later regret. She walked over to him, fingers dancing through the ends of his hair before coming to settle against his jaw. “He was not completely wrong.” 

Dmitry swallowed, his face tilted up, looking at her, studying her. “You shouldn’t want me at all.” 

“That’s not for you to decide,” she told him firmly. 

“What about Anastasia?” He asked, before her lips could cover his. 

“If I’m Anastasia, then I’m Anastasia,” she said with a shrug. It was bigger and more important than the way she said it, but it also was not. “I have no family but a grandmother who refuses to see or acknowledge me. It does not change the woman I’ve become.”

And the woman she had become wanted Dmitry more than any other uncertainty in life. 

Then, a thought, “Does it matter to you if you kiss Anastasia or Anya?”

Hands were on her waist, pulling her closer, “I want you.”

Their lips met, and her heart soared. 

-

The next morning, she awoke to messy hair and a hand splayed along her bare lower back. Anya tucked her face into her pillow to hide the smile that couldn’t help but come out. She slid gently on the bed, pulling Dmitry’s arm over her. 

Once closer, her fingers came out to push the hair that had fallen over his eyes in sleep. He was handsome still, even with his mouth slightly ajar and a bit of drool coming out of it. 

She pressed a kiss against his bicep, and then made her way along his shoulder and collar bone. He groaned as she hit his throat, her tongue coming out to lick underneath his Adam’s apple. 

“What are you doing?” He asked without opening his eyes. 

“Trying to get your attention,” she pouted. 

She found her hands pinned above her head, brown eyes on her, and his body over hers. 

“You’ve always had it,” he told her. 

She wrapped her legs around him and whispered in his ear, “Prove it.”

-

It takes several days before they both find jobs. Dmitry is first, getting a job in the kitchen of the Neva Club. She makes him promise to not to attempt contact Lily, if nothing else because he’d lose the job. He worked odd and strange hours, but would come back with food from the kitchens. Through the Neva Club, he met an older couple looking to have a governess to teach their children in both Russian and French. 

Dmitry gets her an interview with them. The wife takes one look at Anya- her youth, her beauty and looks unconvinced. 

“Are you unmarried?” She questioned. 

“No,” Anya responds automatically. She hates dishonesty, but some survival instincts are too strong to suppress. She knows the answer that will get her closer to employment. The wife’s gaze looks pointedly at Anya’s naked ring finger. “Dmitry and I had to sell everything of value to leave Russia.”

She should worry about what Dmitry had said their relationship was in order to get her this interview. She assumed it was not the truth because ‘my unmarried lover’ would not have yielded a job opportunity of this nature. Dmitry was good at talking his way into stuff without giving anything away so she figured it would be easy enough to fake. 

The wife softens at that, “You seem well educated, Anya. We can try this out. We have a small cottage on our property where you and your husband can stay.” 

It seems too good to be true. Though now her heart races at the thought of having to explain to Dmitry this con of her own. They had not spoke much of their relationship beyond their nights together. 

But she knows better than to hesitate and accepts the offer. 

-

“I’ve become a con woman,” Anya announced as she kneeled behind where Dmitry sat on the bed. He was shirtless and attempting to remove his boot. She wrapped her arms across his chest, and pressed a kiss against his shoulder. 

Dmitry let out a laugh, “You sound so proud of yourself.”

“It got me a job,” she explained. “And housing.” 

He turned his head to look at her, he did not look as excited as her. “So you’re leaving the hotel?” 

Any released him, and swung her leg over his lap, straddling him. “We are leaving the hotel.” She kissed his lips because she could. “The wife- Madame Chernova, did not trust a young, pretty unmarried woman in her house so I told her I was married.” 

“Did you?” It was a good sign he looked amused by this rather than angry or horrified. 

“I need a job,” Anya explained. “She liked that I was married. She said there was a cottage on the property where my husband and I could live.” 

“And who is this husband of yours?” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, “You. If I had to be your lost princess, then you can be my loving husband.”

“You are the lost princess,” he told her, and with more conviction than she thought he had left. “I am not your husband. And what about when you grow bored of me?” 

“Are you bored of me?” She asked, and he shook his head. It was probably unfair to ask him such a question while straddling him, and a man would be a fool to give any other answer. “Then, it is settled. You are now my husband.” 

She went to climb off of him, but he held her in place. “Is that a proposal you’re making?”

“You think I would lower myself to propose to you, when it’s your job to do so?” She asked him. 

“Forgive me, your highness,” Dmitry said, pressing a kiss below her ear. “Would you want to marry me? It’ll take you further away from your family’s legacy.”

Her possible-family’s legacy was a gravesite and she was alive, warm and real. 

“It’d make an honest woman of me,” Anya pondered. “But this whole con business gave me an unexpected thrill.” 

“Far be it for me to stand between you and your thrills,” Dmitry teased, and went to move her off of him. 

She wrapped her legs and arms around him, holding onto him tight. “No, okay, fine- I will marry you. But it should be soon, I begin in less than a week.” 

It’s not all that romantic of a proposal, but it doesn’t have to be. She just wants Dmitry with her for the rest of her life.

-

They get married two days later, and Anya doesn’t bother asking questions as to how Dmitry managed to pull it off. They get married in a bright midday sun with only strangers as witnesses and she gets a last name for the first time since she woke up in the hospital with no memory. 

They meet up with Vlad, who has been in the hotel but got different lodgings after it became clear the plan to try to get Marie was at a standstill and Anya had no desire to press the issue. At some point it just felt like harassing an old woman, whether or not Anya was really her granddaughter. 

They split the remainder of the diamond money. Vlad insists they take a larger portion, as a wedding gift. Anya makes him promise to keep in touch, and Vlad says he will let her know if Marie ever changes her mind. 

-

The cottage is small but cozy. It has two bedrooms and another small room that the housekeeper points out could be an office (a look towards Dmitry, though he was a cook and was not an office type of man) or a nursery (a pointed look at Anya’s stomach and she resists the urge to have her hands flutter there. Somehow forgetting all along that could have been an unintended consequence of all their nights together before their marriage). 

It comes furnished, and they have so few belongings to begin with and it doesn’t take very long for them to get settled.

She doesn’t have to meet with the children until the next day, and it’s Dmitry’s day off from the club. 

Instead they get familiar with the surfaces of the cottage. Marveling in having a space wholly of their own for the first time in either of their lives. 

-

“Madame Sudayeva,” little Phillippe tugged on her skirt. “Why does your husband never come to play with us?” 

“Because we are not playing,” Anya reminded him. Though they were sitting out in the fresh grass, while his sister Eloise petted their family dog as they read aloud. So she could see where the confusion lay. “We are learning.” 

“Is he too old to learn?” Eloise questioned. 

“You are never too old to learn,” Anya responded. “But his job is not here, so he is not around during your learning hours.” 

“Do you have any children that could learn with us?” Eloise continued with questions. 

“No,” Anya said, and anticipating the next question. “We have not been married very long.” 

“My mother said he is very handsome,” Eloise said with a giggle. It made Anya believe this was not a question her daughter was meant to overhear. “So it probably won’t be long at all.” 

Definitely not a conversation for a nine year old to overhear. 

“I think we should get back to our book,” Anya said, with a sigh.

-

“Do you ever think about children?” Anya asked, one night, when Dmitry’s arms are wrapped around her. 

“Not as much as I probably should,” he answered. It was true of both of them. “Does working with children make you want to have them?” 

She considered that, “I don’t know. It can go either way, depending on the time of day.” She can feel his laughter behind her. “Do you want to have them?”

He is quiet for a long moment. 

“It seemed cruel to have them in Russia,” Dmitry said. “Here, all impossible things seem possible.” 

Anya smiled, because he knew he meant her and her and him. “I think you’d be a good father. I would need to grow more use to this stability.” 

“We can try to be more careful from now on,” he promised her. 

-

Her nightmares, never dormant, but long subdued since coming to Paris, return with a vengeance one night. She is surrounded by the feeling of cold, metal, the confusion and terror of not knowing...something. It’s all abstract and mostly unremembered when she wakes up shivering, Dmitry whispering soothing words in Russian while stroking her hair. 

The next day she finds out about the death of the dowager Empress. She was steadfast to the very end of never meeting with another person claiming to be her Anastasia. Anya is overcome with sorrow, and cancels the children’s lessons for the day, claiming illness. 

There’s a part of her, a large part, that believes she must have been Anastasia in another life. But it’s not something she ever had control of being able to claim now. Or it could be she never was Anastasia, and there was a part of her subsconscious tied to survival moving her forwards towards Paris. 

Either way, even without the dowager’s validation, she had found what she was looking for when she had come to Paris. Even if it was not in the way she had ever expected.


End file.
